


The Best Kind Of Humans Are The Ones Who Stay

by Joana789



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Feelings, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Love, M/M, POV Stiles, Stiles Understands Derek, Stream of Consciousness, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:26:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6617797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joana789/pseuds/Joana789
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one problem Stiles has is that everyone around always leaves.</p><p>And sometimes they don’t want to and it’s an unintentional action, one they don’t think much about but one that still is, because they all leave at some point, they go without telling him where and if they don’t tell him, then how can he follow?</p><p>And everyone, everyone always leaves.<br/> </p><p>And then there’s Derek Hale, who never does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Kind Of Humans Are The Ones Who Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Title by Robert M. Drake - it inspired this whole thing.
> 
>  
> 
> Another stress relief because God, my life's a mess.

 

 

 

The one problem Stiles has is that everyone around always leaves.

And sometimes they don’t want to and it’s an unintentional action, one they don’t think much about but one that still _is_ , because they all leave at some point, they go without telling him where and if they don’t tell him, then how can he follow?

And everyone, everyone always leaves.

 

 

* * *

 

 

And then there’s Derek Hale, who never does.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles asks him about it one day, just because he can, as they sit side by side on the couch in Derek’s loft, and he says, “Derek?” because maybe he has trust issues, okay, fine, maybe he really has, just a little at least, because he can’t stop thinking about all of this for some reason and when an idea gets stuck in his mind, it just won’t go away.

Derek makes a sound at that, still not lifting his gaze up from the book he’s reading, something about the history and origins of Celtic symbols, because apparently that’s the stuff Derek finds interesting and well, yeah, it kind of is.

And Stiles opens his mouth, breathes in, but then doesn’t really know how to phrase the question suddenly, knowing Derek’s waiting for it now, because it’ll probably come off as creepy or weird and Derek knows him well enough to expect it by now, sure, but how is he supposed to say it? He’s never been particularly good with words, with capturing the message he wants to convey in just a few simple sentences and –

And Derek looks up at him eventually, after a minute or so, probably having sensed all his confusion or hesitation or whatever it is that he happens to smell of, and he raises his eyebrows and it’s enough for Stiles to duck his head a little and take Derek’s hand in his own, even if somewhat tentatively, because he suddenly remembers that he might not be especially good with words but Derek is not really, either, so Derek doesn’t really care about this.

He intervenes their fingers – that’s his way of conveying the message; if he can’t really say, he’ll show, he decides – and mutters the only thing he has in his mind, which is, “How come you never leave?”

And he’s not sure if Derek understands what he means by this, and he doesn’t really think so, because Derek frowns a little, his eyes on Stiles and hell, Stiles is pretty positive he’d never get something like this himself if Derek ever asked such a question and he opens his mouth to say something more, add a sentence or two because what if Derek gets it the wrong way?

He stops, though, words half-formed on his tongue, because then Derek squeezes his hand suddenly, although just barely, and says, “Why would I?”

And maybe Derek really does understand the question.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Because the thing is that everyone’s always been leaving him behind, constantly, and Stiles was always so sick of it – still is, sure – but now, he thinks, he might be just getting used to it, as much as it’s possible.

His Mom was first, passed away too soon, _too_ _soon_ , and Stiles never really got a chance to say goodbye because how could he when he was still a kid and so scared and hurt? And now he thinks he should’ve seen it coming because he knew Mom was sick, she didn’t die in a car accident or something, when everything happens so fast and one second someone’s here and the next they’re not. Stiles knew, and he saw and he was there to observe all the changes and he was there when all those changes stopped, and then his world kind of stopped, too. Sometimes he still thinks it’s so unfair, because he looks at Melissa and sees everything that had been taken away from him, and Stiles sees her smiling at Scott or telling him not to come home too late or worrying sick about him and he thinks, _“Why did you have to go, Mom?”_

Then there was his dad, and this one was all Stiles’ fault and that’s why he was the one who had to stop it and thank God he did. The truth was the answer, and it worked, but it was close, he thinks, too close to ruin their relationship in a way neither of them could really fix later, and sometimes Stiles thinks he should’ve seen it all coming earlier – that all the lies would eventually backfire.

Then there was Scott, and it started the moment this fucker Peter Hale bit him in the woods, because Stiles has been trying to adjust and fit in this new picture where Scott is a werewolf and an Alpha and Stiles is still a human and now he’s just so tired of it. Scott is not entirely gone yet, but they’re not the kind of best friends they used to be and Stiles knows the feeling because again, he’s been through it all already, kind of, and he doesn’t really have enough power left to fight for Scott to stay.

Especially now, when he never has to fight for _Derek_ to stay, and the disparity between the two of them is so confusing and Stiles still doesn’t understand.

 

 

* * *

 

 

And yet Derek stays, unasked, on his own.

And Stiles can’t help but wonder, inquire Derek in his mind, _Why?_ because he’s not fine with others leaving him behind, but he’s used to it. And he knows it’s kind of stupid and illogical, he knows it doesn’t work like that, no, but all those people leaving him – Scott drifting away and his dad not really trusting him like he used to, not entirely, and Lydia moving on, and Malia – it kind of drilled an idea into his mind that maybe, just maybe, there’s something wrong with _him_ , him as a person. There has to be, a part of him says at times, because if you were okay, if you were alright, if you were worth staying for, they’d have no reason to leave you behind and they do, don’t they?

So it’s you, his mind says.

And that’s why Stiles doesn’t really get Derek, because if everyone else has already noticed, even his own dad and his best friend, then seriously, what is taking Derek so long?

Why is he still here?

 

 

* * *

 

 

So Stiles asks again, because he’s nothing if not intrusive, and this time he says, “Derek, what do you like about me?”

And you’d think Stiles is kidding – he usually is whenever a cheesy line like this one happens to leave his mouth – but not now, not now. He and Derek are in Stiles’ house, a safe, known territory, okay, so Stiles takes his shot, snuggles deeper into Derek and cranes his neck a little to look him in the face.

Derek rolls his eyes. “I like it that you can actually keep your mouth shut sometimes if you try hard enough.”

Because of course, he thinks Stiles is joking, except that he’s not and Derek’s answer makes him feel a little weird in his chest.

“No, no,” he says, shaking his head. “Seriously, what do you like about me?”

And damn his ADHD, he can’t even sit still, has to turn around on the couch so that he faces Derek now, properly, because he’s just a tiny bit nervous all of a sudden and needs to move.

Derek frowns, says, “And why are you asking, all of a sudden?” and he eyes him, as if caught off guard a little, or maybe even suspicious, and Stiles clicks his tongue because that’s not an answer.

“I just want to know,” he says and it sounds fierce but has a dull edge to it, one he did not expect or intend to show or reveal and he really hopes Derek doesn’t hear it because he meant for it to sound flippant, not serious. “I want to know. Just curious, is all.”

And that’s a lie, _shit_ , Stiles realises a second too late, when Derek has already heard it, for sure, if the way his frown deepens in anything to go by, and Stiles tenses a little, thinks that maybe asking this particular question was not his best idea in the first place.

“Stiles,” Derek says, a hint of a slightly strange sound in his voice, “did something happen?”

He puts a hand on Stiles’ waist, touch warm, and Stiles thinks – thinks that he loves this man, just like that, even though he doesn’t really know why Derek loves _him_ , as it seems, still, because it’s kind of ridiculous, if he’s being honest.

He shakes his head, but doesn’t say a word, afraid that it would show a lie again, because no, nothing really happened but at the same time it feels like something did, in a way, and that’s the moment he changes his mind, just like that, his chest suddenly a little tight, and he thinks _, I can wait for an answer some more._

So Stiles leans in and kisses Derek full on the mouth instead of speaking, and Derek lets him, kisses back and doesn’t push, only sighs a little into it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles knows he’s irritating, okay? He knows. He’s aware of all the looks Lydia has ever given him, of all the glances his teacher has ever sent his way, of how people sometimes roll their eyes when they think he can’t see or huff and sigh. He’s loud and nosy and always moving because Adderall does help but it’s not magic or anything so it can’t fix everything about him.

He’s fucking annoying. He’s aware.

 

 

* * *

 

 

And yet, Derek’s not aware at all, apparently.

He does roll his eyes at Stiles, and raises his eyebrows and sighs a lot, but there’s very rarely any real annoyance incorporated in it. Most of the time, Derek does it to play a game, to tease and it’s all good-natured, not harmful. Derek holds Stiles’ hand whenever he senses Stiles is getting too restless, lets him play with his fingers or absent-mindedly rubs small circles into Stiles’ palm with his thumb, a gesture Stiles finds very soothing somehow. He lets Stiles sleep on his shoulder or on his chest and drool on his shirt when Stiles is just too tired to move, when Derek’s too warm and too close to simply move away from. Derek cooks for him sometimes, and usually kisses him goodnight – or good morning – and therefore lets Stiles believe it will all stay like that, just like that.

It scares him, sometimes, because he loves Derek, he really does, and knows Derek probably loves him, too, and maybe he’s stupid but somehow he still doesn’t get it at all.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It sort of just hits him one day, all at once.

He doesn’t know why it’s this particular moment. Maybe because Derek’s arms are wrapped around him, strong, and he can’t remember the last time he’s been so comfortable, even though this is not his own bed and not his own room but what does it matter when Derek’s loft is practically a second home to him by now? Maybe it’s because he’s a little tired – he had been doing research for several hours straight before Derek finally dragged him to bed, said, _“Okay, Stiles, you’re done for today,”_ then simply ignoring all sounds of weak protest coming from Stiles.

Or maybe because he’s had enough of overthinking things by now, mulling them over in his mind, trying to understand and failing.

Whatever the reason, though, when Derek presses him a little tighter against his chest, Stiles mutters into his neck, voice quiet, “Why are you with me?”

He knows Derek’s not asleep – his breathing is not even enough yet – and yeah, when he opens his eyes, he’s definitely awake. And again, Stiles thinks as he watches him a little sleepily, he looks kind of confused, or perplexed maybe, surprised, the emotions showing in the eyes.

“What?” Derek says, and for a second Stiles can’t decide if he should lift his head to look Derek in the face or lay it on his chest and close his eyes; eventually, he goes for the latter.

“Why are you with me?” he repeats lazily, even though Derek heard him the first time round for sure because well, he’s a werewolf. The words feel kind of heavy on his tongue, and maybe it’s because of all this fatigue, but no, he doesn’t really think so to be honest.

Derek’s silent for a moment and Stiles listens to his steady heartbeat, right against his ear.

“Is that why you’ve been so weird lately?” Derek eventually says, and Stiles can feel him tensing up a bit.

 _I’m always weird_ , he thinks but doesn’t say, no, instead he mumbles, “That’s not an answer.”

And, for some reason he doesn’t know, this is what makes Derek move – he tries to sit up and then, when Stiles refuses to move with him, still half-lying on top of him, just settles for putting a hand in Stiles’ hair, a sign to show him he wants him to look up at him, and he could push Stiles off of him with no effort at all but doesn’t.

“Stiles, what did you get into your head?” he says then, and Stiles does look up now, even though he doesn’t really need to in order to know Derek’s frowning.

He’s not as sleepy anymore, he realises, because his heart is beating just slightly too fast.

“Nothing,” he answers, then bites his tongue when Derek raises an eyebrow at him, thinks, _Oh, right, lying._ “I mean…  It’s just that I don’t really – I don’t really understand, you know.”

Derek runs his fingers through Stiles’ hair.

“Don’t understand what?”

And this is getting serious, Stiles realises, because Derek’s tense for some reason but he is, too, and perhaps he’s even a little wary of hearing the answer to this question he asked himself.

This is Derek, though, still, so Stiles continues, nevertheless.

“Us?” he says, but it comes out kind of wrong so he covers it up. “I mean, you’re you and I’m – well, I’m _me,_ and I don’t really get it. Why you’re with me.”

And Derek just stares at him, even though he must realise that’s the way Stiles is thinking because isn’t that what everyone’s thinking? That’s the logical way, at least, so why does Derek look so weirdly surprised?

“And, I mean,” Stiles then goes on when Derek doesn’t answer, and maybe that’s the breaking point of all this because he’s tired and he just lets himself speak, for real, _for_ _once_ , “I mean, everyone always goes? Everyone leaves, my mom and Scott and Lydia, all these people and you don’t, Derek, and I don’t understand why, because it’s a little scary and I don’t want you to go, I don’t, but maybe someday you will because I know, okay, I know I’m annoying and strange and I’m just a human and what if –“

And Derek then says, “Stiles.”

So Stiles stops, hear beating fast, cuts himself off in the middle of this whole rambling and he just wants an answer, now when he finally said it, he wants Derek to tell him what it is that keeps him from leaving, what it is that makes him stay, makes him push Stiles out of the way and protect him and makes him look at him like that right now.

Because Derek just _looks_ , eyes bright in the dark, somehow, threads his fingers through Stiles’ hair again and it’s fond, so fond Stiles feels warm all over.

“You’re always there for everyone,” Derek finally says and it’s not what Stiles expected, not really, but he listens. “For your dad, and for Scott, and Lydia. And me. So let someone be there for you, too, okay? Just once.” And then, with a hint of something Stiles finally recognizes, he adds, “I’m not going anywhere.”

And it clicks. Just like that.

“Okay,” Stiles says, voice sudenlly small and Derek smiles at him, this private, unpracticed smile, just for him to see.

Stiles hides his face in the crook of Derek’s neck.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It never really occurred to him before and he really must be stupid, but hell, of course Derek stays, he thinks now.

He’s lost people, too. They left him, too, left him behind in their dust, first Paige and then almost his whole family, they went where Derek couldn’t follow, where he was not allowed to follow, simply because he was still alive and they were not, not anymore, and it all happened so fast, one moment they were here and the next they were not. And then it was Peter, and then Scott, in a way, and Erica and Boyd and Isaac and those are… those are so many people.

So maybe Derek just gets it all, what Stiles feels, even though Stiles has never really told him about it, not yet, not really. Maybe he feels hollow, too, sometimes, when he sees all those people leaving without letting him come with them, making him go and adjust and adapt all over again.

Derek just gets Stiles, apparently, Stiles thinks, even though they are so different and yet so alike at the same time. He doesn’t mind the ADHD, balances it out with his own composure and constancy and merely with his _presence_. He makes him pancakes for breakfast and tries to get Stiles’ dad to like him a little more and helps Stiles repair his jeep when he can’t do it by himself and kisses him goodnight or goodbye or good morning or just in general, because he wants to and because he can.

And he’s not going anywhere, and Stiles –

Stiles is not, either.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://angstandcats.tumblr.com) !


End file.
